


Try Again

by maigonokaze



Series: Femslash February 2016 [20]
Category: Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dating, F/F, Female Character of Color, Femslash February, Injury, Phone Calls & Telephones, wound care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 07:50:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6071134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maigonokaze/pseuds/maigonokaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After getting injured in a knife-fight, Jessica seeks out Claire's help... and has to face the fact that she may have blown her chance at a relationship with Claire. Content warning: tending wounds (not graphic).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Try Again

When Claire heard the thud of someone landing on the fire escape outside her window, she assumed it was Matt. She grabbed her medical kit off the counter on the way to the window. Minor wounds Matt usually took care of himself. If he came to her, that meant it was bad. 

Medical kit in hand, Claire opened the window out to the fire escape. The figure crouched against the metal railing was not Matt Murdock. “Jessica,” Claire said flatly. 

Jessica smiled up at her, one hand clamped over her left side. The dim light of the alley outside made it hard to see color, but Claire spotted dark stains seeping across Jessica's fingers. “I fucked up,” Jessica said. 

“I can see that.” Claire sighed. “Come on in.” She stepped aside and took Jessica's elbow, helping her through the window while she continued to hold pressure over the wound. “You climbed up here like that?”

Jessica shook her head. “Jumped.” Once through the window frame, she looked around with curiosity. “Nice place,” she remarked. “You have a bathtub or something? I don't want to get blood on your couch.” 

Claire nodded and pointed through her bedroom. 

Jessica sat on the edge of the bathtub and peeled her hand away. A six inch slice ran from her armpit down around her ribcage, just under her breast. 

Claire hissed in a breath at the sight of the angry gash. She lowered the lid of the toilet seat and sat, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. “You’re lucky this didn't nick your lung,” she said as she gently examined the wound. “I'm going to need better access to stitch it up.” She reached into her bag for a pair of scissors. “How much do you like this shirt?”

Jessica gave a one-sided shrug, trying not to move her left shoulder. “Cut it off,” she allowed. Claire sliced up her torso and down the sleeve on the left side. When she slid her fingers under Jessica's bra strap, Jessica shook her head. “That shit’s expensive,” she protested. “Can't you take it off without cutting it?”

“Alright,” Claire agreed. Jessica eased the remains of her shirt over her head and down her good arm. Once the shirt was gone, Claire unclasped Jessica's bra and helped her remove it without moving too much. “So what happened?” Claire asked. 

“I was doing some work for Jer- a client. Guy I was tracking didn't want to be followed. Caught me off guard with a knife.” Jessica inhaled deeply and winced as her ribcage expanded. “Hurts like a bitch.” 

Claire unwrapped a new syringe and a vial of lidocaine. She drew out the anesthetic and swabbed a patch of skin on Jessica's side, a few inches from the wound. “This should help,” she said as she pinched up the skin and slid the needle in at an angle. 

“Thanks,” Jessica said. She  _ could  _ tough it out and get stitches without an anesthetic - she’d definitely felt worse before - but why would she if she didn't have to? So much better to let Claire numb the area before she started working. 

Claire cleaned in and around the wound, then prepped her needle and thread. 

Jessica looked up at the junction of the wall and ceiling as Claire began pulling the ragged edges of her skin back together. Several minutes passed in silence as Claire bent over her task.

“I was gonna call,” Jessica said finally. 

Claire’s steady rhythm did not falter, but she shook her head. “I tried to tell myself you must have not seen the note I left, but you certainly managed to find me easily enough tonight when you needed help.” 

“I'm not good at this. The dating thing.” 

“Obviously.” Claire put the last stitch in and tied off the thread. “Little hint: when a woman leaves her phone number on your bedside table, you call her and ask her out for coffee. Or drinks. Dinner. Something.” She snipped off the excess thread and set down the needle. 

“I didn't know if…” Jessica faltered. “You were there watching Luke. I didn't know if you'd just left your number for like…. medical things.” She looked at Claire for a response.

Claire peeled the wrapper off a pack of gauze. She held the gauze in place and reached one-handed for the tape. Once the top of the gauze was secured, Claire sat back a little so she could use both hands to work the tape roll and secure the sides. “There was nothing ambiguous about my note.” 

“Right.” Jessica cocked her head. “Hey Claire, want to go get a drink with me sometime?” she asked brightly. 

“No.” 

“But you said…”

Claire peeled off her bloody gloves and dropped them in the trashcan next to the toilet. “I said you should have called me a month ago. That would have the right time to ask me out, not when you're sitting here topless and bleeding all over my bathroom.”

“Oh.” Jessica took a deep breath and experimentally rolled her shoulder, watching to make sure the bandage stayed in place. “I'm sorry I didn't call.” 

The corners of Claire's lips twitched up into the beginnings of a smile. She picked up the roll of medical tape again and rummaged through her bag for a sharpie. She wrote her number out in clear, sharp letters and then tore off the chunk of tape. Claire stuck one end over the bottom of the bandage and ran it across Jessica's ribs, just under her breast. Her hand lingered for a moment, pressing down to make sure the tape was secure. “Let's try this again,” she said. 

Jessica couldn't breathe. She didn't think that had anything to do with her chest injury. 

“Now get out of here,” Claire said, nodding toward the door. “And don't lose that number."

Jessica stood. “Can I borrow a shirt?” she asked.

Claire went to her closet and pulled out a faded blue t-shirt with “Metro-General Hospital” printed across the chest in block letters. She guided Jessica's left arm through the sleeve and then helped her work it over her head. Jessica got her right arm in and tugged the shirt down over her bare chest and freshly-bandaged side. “Thanks.”

“Try not to move that side too much,” Claire warned. “And no more knife fights until it's healed completely. The stitches will dissolve in about a week or two.” 

“Will do,” Jessica promised. She moved toward the window where she'd come in, but Claire shook her head and pointed to the door. 

Jessica opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Claire stood in the doorway behind her. “Thank you,” Jessica said again. “For…” She waved her hand at the lump of the bandage under her shirt. “And, uh, I'll call you.” 


End file.
